All the World's a Stage
by KricketWilliams
Summary: Based on a snippet...Thanks!...from 6x8, "Reflection of Desire." Derek is wondering why Penelope kept her secret from him, and asks her about it. Short little drabble, with a possibilty for more...As always, I don't own anything.
1. Chapter 1

_**All The World's A Stage...**_

It was out in the open now.

"So, sweetness," he said the next morning in her office. "Is that the only secret you've been keeping from me?"

The night before, Derek had sat front and center, next to Hotch, one row ahead of Prentiss, Rossi, and Reid, watching her in her play. Watching her so intently, she'd stumbled over her lines twice. Lines she'd never flubbed up on before.

She looked at him, and tapped her chin with a blue-painted fingertip. "That bugged you, sweetheart, didn't it?"

"Yes, it did." He leaned back against the corner of her desk and crossed his arms over his chest in a gesture of self-defense so obvious, it didn't take a profiler to read it. "We're best friends; we're not supposed to have secrets from each other."

She looked back at her screen guiltily, and began in a high pitched tone, "Like I said, you have your properties, and-"

"Properties you have been to how many times?" he asked her archly.

She turned back to see him narrowing his eyes at her. She swallowed and smiled sheepishly, "I haven't seen the basement of the one on 34th Street."

"Baby," he said, leaning forward, putting both of his hands on her arm rests. "You could move into any of my houses, if you just said the word."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "D, we've been over this. I am so not taking a house from you."

"It wouldn't be taking; I'd be giving."

She shook her head. "Same difference, cupcake."

"That's neither here nor there, and we're getting off subject," he said, waiving his hand in dismissal. "What I want to know is why didn't you tell me?"

He stood back up, his arms folded across his chest again.

She could tell, she'd upset him. She hadn't meant to. She didn't want to put him out over anything; her reasoning was the polar opposite of that.

"It wasn't to keep a secret, something that you didn't know about me," she began.

"Could've fooled me," he muttered.

"Derek," she retorted with just enough of a whine to show that she was exasperated with him.

"Alright," he said, relaxing more, his arms falling akimbo. "I'm listening."

"The theater takes a lot of my time. When I am doing things for the theater, I become absorbed in my part; I don't think about anything but the part," she explained. She held her palms up. "Ask Kevin; I ignore him all the time."

Derek scoffed. "I ignore him all the time, and I'm not playing a part."

"You're terrible."

"I'm truthful," he countered. "Keep going."

She sighed again and looked away. "I didn't want to do that to you, ignore you like that or make you have to see my plays. So, I do it all on the sly, reading my part in private by myself. Otherwise, I would be tempted to ask you to help me."

He cocked his head to the left and looked at her. "Why didn't you ask me?"

She blushed. "It doesn't work. I tried with Kevin-"

"Hey!" he interrupted her. "Trying with Lynch and trying with me is not the same thing."

That caught her attention. Just the way he said the words, so forceful and intense, made her think differently. Besides, secretly she'd always wanted to read with Derek. He had a delicious, low baritone that would sound good reading ingredients off a soup label!

_No mono-sodium glutamate, sweetheart- just pure broth, along with chicken, rice, peas, and lots of fantastic noodles. Oh, hell, yes, momma; that would make a-_

"Penelope, you okay?" he asked, his brow quirked in amusement.

"I think we'd be awesome together," she whispered finally.

He smiled back. "Like I said: aren't we already?" She'd barely had time to grin back, before he said, "Okay, so I will be at your place tomorrow night, and we'll read."

"Oh, okay."

He stood and walked to the door, before saying, "What is our play this time?"

She grinned. "_Journey of Passion_."

He laughed and shook his head. "I take it that's not slapstick comedy?"

"Nope."

"Hot and heavy romance?" he asked, brow quirked again.

"Yep."

He winked at her. "Just my cup of tea."

And he left her office, whistling a happy little tune.

_AN: Thank you to JenRar for editing for me and for laughing. This was driving me crazy, I had to fix it. Dedicated to Jen, Betty-Anne, Cara, and Harley, who asked me to write a story about that line about being "awesome together." _

_This was going to be a one shot, but if you'd like, I can keep going- like a two, three, maybe four shot. What would YOU like?_


	2. Chapter 2

**_….And all the men and women are merely players._**

Derek Morgan pushed the security code outside of Penelope Garcia's apartment complex. Less than a minute later, he heard a buzz, signalling to him it was okay to go into the entryway. He trotted up the first flight of stairs and took a left, then fished the key out of his pocket for her door.

He was so pumped to be reading her part with her. Really, he'd be thrilled to do anything with her. He was simply excited just to be with her. He loved spending time in general with his Baby Girl. If she'd called to say, _Let's scrub the grout in my tub_, he'd be there, with a grin, toothbrush and Comet cleanser in hand.

Turning the key, he opened her door and walked in. "P, I'm here."

"Coming!" she answered, coming out of her bedroom. She was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, and was gathering her hair in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. She beamed at him. "Hi."

"Hi," he answered, grinning back. "You look casual."

She wrinkled her nose at him. "You don't. You didn't go home and change?"

"Nah," he said, kicking off his shoes. He was wearing his work clothes, which today consisted of charcoal gray trousers and a long sleeved maroon shirt. Whenever he wasn't in the field, he dressed accordingly for the office. Not quite Hotch and Rossi suit and tie, but pretty close.

"Well, get comfortable; we're in for a long night," she said, walking over to her bookshelf to grab two sheaves of paper.

He plopped down on her couch, then crossed his ankle on his knee. He noticed a tripod in the middle of the room with a camera perched on it.

"Baby," he asked, pointing at it, "what is that for?"

She followed where he was pointing. "Oh. I sometimes tape myself when I am practicing, just to make sure I have the right facial expressions and stuff." She grinned sheepishly. "I'm pretty animated; I tend to be over the top."

"You weren't the other night," he said quickly. "You were perfect."

Blushing, she replied, "Thank you, sweetheart."

"No need to thank me," he murmured. "It's the truth."

A moment later, he was grinning off center.

She looked at him warily. "What is that smile for?"

His grin turned into a full fledged leer. "I can think of lots of better purposes for that camera…"

"You're awful," she said as she shook her head and sat next to him on the couch. She knew she shouldn't have said anything, but she couldn't help herself.

He started leafing through the pages. "What scene are you on?"

"Act one, scene five," she answered. "Right before intermission. It's pretty dramatic, so if you don't feel comfortable…"

She watched as he bristled when her voice trailed off.

"Of course, I feel comfortable!" he retorted with an arch look. "Contrary to public knowledge, I have _some_ acting experience."

Her eyes grew wide. "You? Acting?"

"Yes, me," he said, leaning back, resting the script on his knee. "We sports people had to have a rounded, liberal arts approach for college. I took drama for a semester to see how the other half lived."

She arched a brow at him. "Other half?"

"Yeah," he replied. "You know, the beatnik, goth, bohemian artsy people."

"Well, that's stereotypical thinking," she mused.

This time he raised a brow. "And thinking I'm odd for having drama experience isn't?"

She grinned sheepishly. "Touché."

"Act one, scene five," he said, opening his script. "Where Laura and Broderick"- he paused to look at her- "Broderick?"

"Go on."

"Okay…_those two_ are at the train depot." He read over his lines kind of quickly, then looked up at her. "Film noir?"

"Just feels like it," she answered. "It's really modern day, but the two of them are in a world of their own."

"Sounds interesting. Star crossed lovers?"

She nodded quickly. "Sort of like that."

"What's a classy dame like you doing in a joint like this?" he asked, giving her a swaggering look that should've made Humphrey Bogart roll over in his grave.

She started to laugh. "You're a terrible actor."

He was obviously offended. "I got a B in that class!"

She shook her head. His teachers were smokin' something…

"Read," she said, touching the papers of her script.

"Am I Laura or Broderick?" he teased, winking at her. Then a second later, he started reading…

….And it was magical.

_AN: I suppose I need more now….tee hee!….Seriously, folks, **now** I have an idea, and I think it's going to take about two more chapters to do it justice...As for my other stories, a short break before I post..._


	3. Chapter 3

_**...They have their exits and their entrances...**_

Penelope was doing the finishing touches on cleaning up her apartment. Derek was going to be there in less than twenty minutes to read with her, and she wanted to make sure she had everything ready. On her coffee table, she had a bottle of Merlot opened and breathing, two glasses, some cheese and crackers, and the scripts. It was all set for another great night of reading lines.

This was the fourth night in a row that Derek had volunteered to come over and read with her. The first night, she was blown away by how good he'd been. Derek had seemed to care about the lines, care about getting it right for her. She knew it was a testament to their friendship how hard he'd worked on those lines; he was not a fan of romances when they went to the movies. This sort of play was definitely not his cup of tea.

Because he'd been so sweet about the whole thing, she'd made snacks and drinks, and tried to make things comfortable the second time he'd come over. That time was even better. He'd even remembered some of the lines without having to look, and his rich voice carried emotion with it.

Last night, the third time he'd been there, she'd felt herself starting to slip into character. She was becoming Laura to his Broderick, falling so in love, wanting and needing. She didn't feel bad about it; Derek read with passion and buried himself in the part, too. They'd laughed and joked between the highly charged lines, reminding her of their easy friendship, their chemistry.

That was why there was magic when he read with her: it was their chemistry, bursting to life.

For a moment, she thought about the difference between Derek and Kevin. When Kevin rehearsed with her, he'd complained and whined, wanting to get back to his programming he was doing. Kevin's interest, his entire life, was related to computers. She was starting to wonder if he bled green cyborg juice instead of blood.

The sound of the buzzer woke her out of her reverie. She hit the entrance button and ran to check her hair in her bedroom mirror. On a whim, instead of a ponytail tonight, she was wearing it long and loose, like Laura in the movie would wear it. She was wearing her regular sweatpants and t-shirt, with minimal makeup, but she could've been in kitten heels as far as she was concerned.

"Hey, baby," Derek's voice rang out, just before she heard her door shutting again.

"Hey, Hot Stuff," she said, heading to the couch.

Derek was kicking off his shoes and removing his coat. It was a rainy November day, cold, wet, and already dark outside. The perfect evening to spend reading and rehearsing.

Then she thought about it. It was Friday night, and Derek was here. She was pretty sure there were a thousand other places he could be.

"D?" she said, looking up at him as he walked into the room, heading towards the couch. When he looked at her, she asked, "Are you sure you're okay being here? It's a Friday night, and-"

He put a finger on her lips, effectively halting what she was going to say. "Hush, woman," he said as he sat next to her. "There's nowhere better for me to be than spending time with my best girl. We need to work on this big scene before your rehearsal on Saturday."

She smiled, her heart warmed, as she picked up her script. "Broderick, are you ready?"

He smirked. "Laura, I am always ready."

She rolled her eyes. "That was more Derek Morgan, not Broderick Winthrop."

He simply grinned at her.

Penelope looked at her line, and then closed her eyes for a moment, allowing herself to be transported to New York, outside of Grand Central Station. If she tried hard enough, she could hear the whistles of the trains, feel the brush of the wind chill her cheeks, and smell the cigars and cigarettes of the passengers exiting the building.

She opened her eyes and saw Derek as Broderick clear as day, wearing a trench coat and a fedora, having eyes for only her. There was such love and devotion on his face, such underlying passion, such sexual tension...no man had ever wanted her so much.

"Broderick," she began, her heart in her throat. "We can't keep meeting like this...I'm a married woman."

"Only in the eyes of the law, not in your heart...or mine," he said, his words nearly whispered in intensity.

"I can't!" she gasped. "This is wrong; surely you can see that."

His eyes darkened to black, almost swirling with heat. "Laura, I can only feel what is in my heart, what throbs through my veins, what-"

"My husband," she cried, looking away from him, unable to meet his eyes again. "He's a good man."

"Don't speak of him!" he snapped. "He's not worthy of you; he's _never_ been worthy of you."

She murmured dejectedly. "He's in public office. He's respected by many-"

"He's not fit to wipe your boots!"

"Broderick-"

"He ignores you, he doesn't give you what you need." Derek put his hands on her cheeks, making her look at him. "I can give you what you need..."

Time stood completely still. Derek still had his hands on her face, was still looking at her with that same intense look. Penelope didn't realize she was holding her breath, until she let it out in a whoosh.

"Umm," she said. "This is where they kiss."

"I know."

"Wine?" she asked, feeling quite awkward.

"Please," Derek said, dropping his hands.

She poured them both two glasses, and they each sipped quietly. Her hands were shaking a little bit from the intensity of the moment. Her heart was pounding, and her...

She chuckled. It was a play, for goodness's sake. A work of fiction. She needed to get a grip.

"Man, I wish I could see this," she said, smiling at him. "We're damn good together."

He grinned. "We always are, sugar. Hey!" he said, looking over at the camera. "You _can_ see it."

"Oh, no, D," she said. "We'd have to act it out."

"So?" he answered. "I'm willing."

"Derek..."

He stood, and then pulled her to her feet. "Come on."

Penelope turned on the camera, and then smiled at him. "Okay. Three, two, one...action."

It took remarkably little time to get back into character. Each line was read with feeling and passion. She turned away from him, even managed to get tears in her eyes as she said dejectedly, "He's in public office. He's respected by many-"

"He's not fit to wipe your boots!" Derek said vehemently, reaching for her arm.

"Broderick-" she whispered, glancing at him with watery eyes, her chin quivering, before turning away.

This time, Derek surprised her by pulling her into his embrace. She fell against him, her palms resting on the hard plane of his chest.

"He ignores you, he doesn't give you what you need." He stared at her mouth as he said, "I can give you what you need..."

He lowered his mouth to hers and took her lips in a crushing kiss, full of heat and want. She stiffened in surprise, then original shock melted away into sweeping pleasure as his mouth demanded response from hers. He slid his hands down her back, molding her body with his, pressing and coaxing her closer.

She sighed and slid her arms up to his neck, falling deeper under his spell as he kissed her with devastating sweetness. She let out a soft moan of satisfaction, and he slid his tongue just past the barrier of her lips.

All too soon, he lifted his head and broke the kiss. Slowly, she opened her eyes. She felt tipsy, like she'd drunk too much wine, and she was breathing heavy. She couldn't help but notice, he was breathing heavy, too.

She shook her head to clear it, before she did something stupid, like take him seriously.

"Wow. That is one hell of a good acting job." She grinned at him and said teasingly, "Are you sure you're not in the theater still, Hot Stuff?"

"Yeah," he croaked. He swallowed hard, before releasing her. Only after that did he return her smile. "Listen, Baby Girl. I gotta go. See you Monday, okay?"

And he was out the door so quickly, he forgot his coat.

_AN: Okay...one more, I think...As always, thank you for the reviews! You're all marvelous for liking this fly by the seat of my pants story!..._


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: A warm thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed this story. After the first part, I researched the quote and decided to run this like a four part play. Hence, the four chapters, and now, four POV shifts...again, thanks!_

_**.**__**...And one man in his time plays many parts.- William Shakespeare, As You like It**_

After Derek left, Penelope stared at the door where he'd exited in confusion for awhile. She was perplexed for many reasons. She wondered why he left without his coat. The weather hadn't let up the entire time they were together rehearsing. He was wearing his long sleeved cotton Henley he wore to work today, not anything that would keep him warm against the elements. She was worried about him; she didn't want him to get sick.

She didn't know why he'd rushed out the door so quickly. He'd told her so many times that he had no other plans, nothing else to do, other than to practice with her. Albeit, he'd finished the scene so well-she thought he deserved an academy award for his work tonight!-he probably thought there was no reason to continue. That thought brought a pang of sadness to her heart; she'd really enjoyed reading with him. Although that nagging voice of her conscious made her admit something else...

Reading wasn't the only thing she enjoyed.

She brought her fingertips to her lips, and could still feel the tingling rush of feeling, the exquisite pressure of his kiss. No doubt about it; Derek knew how to kiss.

_He was acting a part, Penelope_, she scolded herself. _Stop being stupid. You are not Laura, and he is not Broderick._

Wistfully, she reached for his coat. She gave it a quick hug, burying her face in the leather. It still had that faint woodsy scent of Derek. Sighing, she released her hold on it by hanging it up on her coat tree. Then she proceeded into her bedroom to start getting ready for bed.

* * *

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!_ Derek thought as he walked down the street. How could he had been so stupid to finally give into temptation. He'd kissed the one woman who had always been forbidden to him, kissed her with everything he had in him...

And she'd thought he was playing a part.

Derek laughed bitterly. He was playing a part in a lot of ways. He'd been playing the part of best friend and colleague for six years. He played the part of teasing flirt, like it meant nothing more to him than passing fancy. Just lighthearted banter, a game between two friends.

Seriously, he deserved an academy award for his work. There was nothing lighthearted about his feelings for Penelope.

She meant everything to him. She was his best friend, his true confidant, the only person who really knew his secrets, the only person he was himself around. She was balm to his battered spirit, healing him when things became too bad, at work or in life in general. He loved her, and he was in love with her. Had been for quite some time now.

However, there was Lynch, and their friendship, and their work status. So many things that piled up on top of one another to make a relationship-to be her lover, her boyfriend, her husband-simply a pipe dream.

But what a beautiful dream it was!

He sighed and made it to his car, the cold, misty rain chilling him to his bones, and accepted the fact.

That was one role he was destined to never play.

* * *

Penelope flipped between three different shows on the TV, although there was seriously nothing good on Friday nights. Her favorite night to watch television was Wednesday. There were a lot of good shows on then. Right now, it was slim pickings. Probably because most folks were out partying, or out to eat, or doing something other than watching the boob tube.

As she tried become absorbed into a medical drama, she caught herself glancing for the umpteenth time at the video camera on her tripod. She forced herself to look back at the TV...just when they showed a very graphic, however not very real looking, pole sticking out of someone's chest.

"Oh, that's it," she said disgustedly, turning the channel. She gave up. There was nothing to see.

She looked up at the camera again.

_Come on, you want to see that kiss_, the devil on her left shoulder said.

_No, you really just want to see the lines_, the angel on her right said.

_The kiss! _

_The lines!_

"It's both," she admitted to herself with a sigh, standing up. She walked over to the tripod and procured the tape, then popped it into her video player.

She watched the tape play. Watched the magic unfold again. Watched the warmth in Derek's eyes, the heat of his words, the force of his emotion, and the chemistry that flowed between them. A chemistry so palpable, she could see it like water flowing back and forth, washing over them.

As she watched, it became abundantly clear to her: this was so much more than two people playing roles.

She stopped the tape and sat there, quiet and thoughtful, for a long time.

And then she picked up her cell phone and made a call.

* * *

Derek made it home and immediately changed his clothes, pulling on track pants and a sweatshirt to ward off the cold. He thought about going to bed, but it was only eight. He'd pictured himself going to bed that early when he was almost ninety, not almost forty. So, he watched a hockey game that was on the TV, where his favorite team was losing miserably. He suffered through it for awhile, before he made his way into his kitchen and started heating some water for a cup of instant soup.

A moment later, his cell phone rang. He flicked it open and answered, "Yeah, Baby Girl."

"Hi, ummm," she said rather nervously. "You left your coat."

He inwardly blanched. "I did. Can you bring it with you to work on Monday?"

"Actually, I'm on my way over there."

He frowned a bit. "Okaaaaay..."

"And Derek?" she continued. "I have a new part I want you to try out for."

For a moment, Derek stood stock still, wondering what she was talking about. Then he took a quick look at his house. It was kind of messy right now, but Penelope had seen it worse. She'd helped him clean up the place numerous times, even helped him organize his basement. Nevertheless, he made a quick trip around the house, picking up clothes and stuff. He was in the kitchen making a pot of coffee, when he heard Penelope's key in the door.

"Hey," he called out. "I'm putting on coffee."

"I'm hanging up your coat," she answered, and he had no doubt of that. Her voice sounded muffled. She made it into the kitchen. Her eyes were sparkling with a teasing glint when she said, "I bet you were cold on the way home."

"Froze my ass off," he replied honestly.

She laughed. "Poor baby."

The coffee started to percolate; he checked the drip settings, and then he turned to look at her. "So...what part do you want me to read for?"

She smiled crookedly. "Wow. No pussyfooting with you, now, is there?"

His response was just a grin in return.

"Well...ummm...I started watching our tape we made, and..." She paused for a second. He could've sworn she was deliberately stalling. "That coffee smells really good. Can I have a cup?"

Derek gave a short bark of laughter, but poured the coffee. "You're a torture artist," he said, handing her a mug.

She held the mug and blew on it a bit to cool it. He watched her perfect lips make a motion like a kiss, and had to fight pulling her into his arms...

"What, P?" he snapped irritatedly.

"I watched the tape, and I saw our chemistry, Derek. You could see it; it was real. Like an elephant in a room, impossible to ignore," she said in a rush. She took a sip of her coffee, and then said, "I watched it, and watched it. Then I watched the kiss..."

"And?"

She looked up at him again. "Derek, I don't think you were acting with that kiss any more than I was."

He wondered if he looked as shell shocked as he felt. "You weren't acting?"

"No," she answered honestly. "And neither were you."

He smiled, and every warm and tender feeling he'd ever had for her bubbled to the surface. "I wasn't."

She smiled back, but looked down. "I called Kevin after that kiss. Told him I needed to recast the role of Garcia's boyfriend. I've needed to do that for a long time." She looked up at him, her eyes shining with love. "Derek, will you play that part?"

He put his cup down and took hers out of her hands. "Oh, baby, that is one part I was born to play!"

He felt her tremors as she both laughed and cried in his arms. "Wow, Derek. I never expected this in a billion years."

"I never expected it, either," he whispered softly, as he brought his hands up to cup her face. He brushed a tear away from her cheek with his thumb, his own eyes glimmering with moisture. "But it is the best surprise I could ever have."

"I love you," she murmured. "I think I always have."

"I love you, too," he replied. "And I know I always have."

She smiled up at him, and then said teasingly, "Broderick?"

His eyes twinkled as he answered, "Yes, Laura?"

"Kiss me..."

And he did.

**_AN Postscript: Hope you enjoyed this happily ever after! Next story will be coming up pretty soon. If you are so inclined, please check out Naidoo's profile for a collaboration that is running in sync with this story called, "The Vacation." _**


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